


Stress Relief

by CroftersGamer



Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: I don't like to keep calling him Robot, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Robot is named Robin, Sar is mentioned, Stress Relief, for the aliens its normal, it counts as smut if it is two robots?, there's no genitalia, they don't see that as a very taboo thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CroftersGamer/pseuds/CroftersGamer
Summary: Scarecrow stress is too much, Robin is there to help.
Relationships: Robot/Scarecrow
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Stress Relief

— Good night, Robin! Good night, Scarecrow! — Chirped Will Robinson, waving and making his way to his room. 

The matriarch of the family, Robin has explained that was called “The Maureen”, had prepared a “bed” for the aliens. 

The rusted robot didn’t sleep, none of his friends did, but that didn’t take away the gesture’s meaning, at least, that’s how the bluish robot seemed to understand.  
Right now, the two robots decided that the lounge was the best place to stay. Big, quiet, and private while the humans recharged their batteries. 

Robin was already used to this. The silence, the calm, the so uncomfortable, and crushing sensation of something soon coming to destroy their core in pain and misery for another decade.

Oh yeah, that’s just on Scarecrow’s mind then. 

It was not natural to their specie to feel fear, nor grief, or whatever it was this core-wrecking feeling that seemed to have found its place inside Scarecrow’s chest plates.  
Robin’s lights twirled around his visor, signaling in their native language a simple ask, the rusty robot thought for a moment, information and answers swimming through a stream, Robin understood nonetheless, Scarecrow didn’t have an answer. 

For so long, Scarecrow felt scared. He barely knew what it was but it was there all along, the fear of death, the fear of pain, the fear of the two humans that made his existence miserable for so many hours that his information storage couldn’t even calculate anymore. He felt his mechanical body tremble, threatening to let go, to make him hit the floor, his instincts telling him to curl up inside the box. Box? What box? There was no box anymore. 

The line of thoughts escaped his mind when two mechanical arms wrapped around his midsection. Scarecrow’s head snapped downwards locking on the shiny, mesmerizing visor of Robin. The pilot robot has a smaller body than his own, for locomotion reasons, he wasn’t needed in the front line during an attack so it would be a waste to weaponize his body too much. 

Funny enough, Scarecrow had never been hugged before, he knew what it was, he saw happening a few times during his decade in the resolute but never once had the chance to feel what it was like. 

Robin wasn’t human, so by logic, was obvious that it didn’t felt soft like human skin against his metal, but it was warm, so very warm.  
With calm and slow steps, Robin took him to the new improvised bed, that The Maureen had made for them. The shorter robot slowly lowered himself on the fabric and fabric filled square objects that seemed to give comfort to the humans, bringing Scarecrow down with him. 

The bang of both chest plates colliding against each other didn’t wake up the humans, which was a lucky move, to say the least. Neither wanted human company right now. 

On their planet, fights and attacks were common. A day to day routine, finding something new to explore and during these explorations, conflicts were inevitable. 

Fight from crew members, stress building up from wounded soldiers, or too antsy collectors ready to stretch their legs and start their job once for all. A distraction had to exist. 

Scarecrow got comfortable on Robin’s arms, his taller structure giving him the advantage to place his head on top of Robin’s. Four arms slowly folding into two, like his friend’s new preferred structure. 

Robin’s chest plates slowly opened, presenting a maze of wires and bluish cables that formed the complex being. The rusty robot soon followed, big chest plate splitting in two, showing his own wiring. 

The idea was simple inside their minds. So common for their specie as a stress reliever. 

Scarecrow’s shoulders sank, like in a big sigh of relief when a reddish cable slowly moved forward in his chest, connecting to the bluish one that came out of his new partner’s chest. 

Instantly, the worries and fears inside his mind seemed to turn into a mush of pleasured signs and colors, his visor lights danced, like if following the flow of information being pumped in and out of his system. 

The memory came to him. Hundreds of robots inside the massive black ship, reaching the galaxies, itching for a place to land, it was driving everyone insane. A bigger, black member of the group would turn their head around as if analyzing the environment and the comrades that keep him company. 

Scarecrow’s head moved in slow-motion through the visor as if his body, now relaxed, just couldn’t bother to send information faster to his mind. Two robots could be seen in one corner. 

The rusty robot wasn’t sure, but both seemed to be soldiers. A bright silver one was cornered, back against the metal wall, spikes slowly scrapping at it and making constant white noise. A brownish one, with red marks on his back and chest plates.

Speaking of plates, both had the chest plates open, a thick bright orange cable forced its way out of the bigger brown robot’s chest and inside the silver’s one, basically swallowing the white cable, just like Scarecrow and Robin now. 

It happened for hours, everywhere. From soldiers to pilots, the simple act of intimacy and care, helping a partner to relax, preparing them to use their full capacities when the moment comes. 

This wasn’t the reason this time, Robin wasn’t preparing Scarecrow for battle, nor making sure his stress would stay in the way of a complex attack. This was fun, this was intimacy and he needed that so badly that his system almost shut down right then and there. 

This ritual went on for hours, Scarecrow bulky body being held close by his smaller partner. Information colliding, mixing, pulsating through their cables, sending pulse after pulse of pleasure, until the light of the day came rushing through the glass panels. 

Robin thought about letting him go, the Robinsons may not find it as simple and common as the aliens did. But for the first time in a long time, he didn’t care about their reaction to it. Scarecrow needed that, and he was grateful to help his family.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the brownish robot in the vision is Sar.


End file.
